My Favorite Pie
by Henneth Laer
Summary: Dean/Cas SLASH. Some of Dean's musings, on angels, love, war and pie flavors. Oneshot.


**A/N: **A little and sweet Dean/Cas oneshot I wrote ages ago.

**Disclaimer: **I obviously don't own Supernatural, otherwise the whole show would consist of this.

:::

It was never just the sex.

Yes, of course, the sex was awesome. From the little stolen blowjobs in the Impala and the fast and sweet way they had it when Sam was at the library to the time when they both decide they need a rest from the younger Winchester (and, respectably, Sam needs a rest from them), go to the nearest crappy motel, book a room for the entire weekend and never go out of bed.

But it's never just that, Dean thought. He has felt it ever since they confessed their feelings to each other, that gloomy midsummer night, sitting on the hood of the Impala, in the half-drunken gaze from the beer and the happiness that they'd prevented the Apocalypse and stopped Lucifer. That first kiss, with the moon as their only witness. The soft taste of Castiel's chapped lips that had the scent of vanilla and taste of freshly-brewed coffee. Actually, all of his angel's body tasted like coffee. Except that little space between his collarbones, where he could catch the faint smell of cinnamon and apple, his favorite pie.

After that, every time they lay next to each other, sweaty and naked, still experiencing their afterglows, Dean would lay his head on Castiel's chest and kiss exactly that little spot. It would give his angel shivers or even sometimes another hard-on. Either way, it was good for both of them.

Of course, Cas was banished from heaven from a long time ago. He had talked about this with Dean, how he felt his wings extremely heavy on his back, that he didn't even have the strength to lift one feather from them. All of his angel mojo, just gone. Cas was just as human as the lover he had given it all up for.

The hunter had asked him about this, more than once even.

Castiel said that he didn't regret a single thing. From the gleam in his sapphire eyes, Dean could tell that he was telling the truth. Well, apart from the fact that his angel basically _couldn't _lie, because he didn't know how exactly that went. Even though Sam had mocked him (on all friendly terms, of course) about this thousands of times, Dean, even though he'd never admit it, found it kind of cute.

They were hunting together now, Team Free Will, as Dean had once mockingly dubbed them, but the name seemed to stick. By mutual agreement, Sam took a separate motel room from now on, simply because he didn't really want to suffer from sleep deprivation, or, as he put it, 'I've been scarred enough already.'. Still, he was okay with it. Cas, on the other hand, was quickly getting used to handling weapons and in fact, Dean thought, he'd make a darn good hunter. He had finally had a change in clothes too, after a long debate, in which the brothers convinced him that it wouldn't be normal for a human being to wear the same clothes every day for months ahead. They threw out the suit and the tie, just because they were extremely ragged now that the former angel had lost his powers. But no matter how dirty or torn it was, Cas still kept the trench coat. Once, when Dean found it in his duffel bag, he asked why. Castiel just gave him his crooked smile, a chaste kiss on the lips and took it back, shoving it into the bag.

Dean understood.

It was indeed those little things that made their relationship special. Like that first time Castiel got sick, it was just a common flu, but he was scared to death, because he had never experienced something like this. While Sam was quickly rushed to the drug store for Tylenol, Dean sat there, measuring his fever, giving him water when he was thirsty, generally taking care for him. And he kept repeating that everything will be okay. Cas had said 'If you say so, I believe you.'

Sometimes, he'd thought about giving up hunting and settling down. Living a normal family life, now that Castiel has basically become a Winchester. But then another thrilling hunt would come up, a ghost in Kentucky, a wendigo in Kansas, a skin crawler in Missouri. Just one more hunt, and then one more, and one more. And so it went, on and on, when he finally understood, that he couldn't choose between either, he would just have to live with something in between. Which suited him just fine.

As long as Sam and Cas were around, Dean Winchester would even live on the street if he had to.

Dean glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 4:27 in the morning. Great. He would be groggy as hell on the other day and probably would have to let Sam drive, the thought of it making him crinkle his nose in disapproval. He felt movement to his left and Castiel's ruffled bed hair emerged from the covers, sleepy blue eyes staring at him yet so intently.

'Morning.' he mumbled, trying to repress a yawn at the same time. Dean chuckled and kissed his forehead.

'It's 4:30. You still have time to sleep.'

'Why are you awake then?'

'I was thinking.'

'About?'

'Us. This.' Dean waved aimlessly at the cheap motel room, whose wallpaper was starting to fall off. 'I mean, is this the life we really deserve? Should we settle down? Should I finally stop being a wayward son and give you the life you deserve?'

Castiel lifted himself up on one elbow so that his eyes, still foggy from sleep, were staring directly at Dean's. He planted a light kiss on his lover's lips, before answering.

'You're Dean Winchester. You should never be given the choice between family and hunting. Nor should you doubt.' Another peck. 'I do not care what you will choose. I will still, as you say, 'stick around'.'

'Guess it ain't so easy to get rid of you, is it?'

Cas cocked an eyebrow and Dean laughed.

'It's just a metaphor, silly. You should go back to sleep, we'll be driving for at least six hours tomorrow.' They had just wrapped a case up and they were taking their well-deserved break.

'I think there is something that I would prefer doing right now.'

As he felt long slender fingers creeping down his body and Castiel's mouth invaded his once again, he lost all trail of thought. As he progressed on kissing his lover until he was breathless, he paid special attention to the little spot that smelt of apples and cinnamon.

Castiel had definitely become Dean Winchester's favorite pie flavor.


End file.
